


My heart beats for only you

by mardi89



Category: Hercai (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 03:48:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21439729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardi89/pseuds/mardi89
Summary: “You don't expect apologiesYou always see the best in meI'm the lucky fool that you married”
Relationships: ReyMir
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	My heart beats for only you

**Author's Note:**

> The Wreck by Delta Spirit
> 
> I started writing this before ep 20 aired, so now I think of it as an ep20 AU. I took the bts info and rumors of a rain kiss and ran with it. Posting a week late but I'm still proud of it.

He had been wandering the streets of Midyat for hours, but it could have been minutes or days, his concept of time distorted by the torment in his mind. His wife, the love of his life, the only person who truly cared about him was gone. The only reason he hadn’t gone totally insane was because he knew where she was and that she was safe. As safe as she could be anyway. She was at home with her mother and sister, comforting them, keeping them together. He knew that he deserved to wallow in his loneliness, but it didn’t make the pain lessen any. 

Her father had almost died, in his konak, right at his feet. As soon as he saw Hazar fall from the wall of the mansion down to the stone floor he knew that everyone,  _ her  _ included, would think that he tried to kill him. He ran down from where he had been perched, brooding, to see if he was hurt, but it was too late. A sudden fear gripped him then, not that he would be blamed for it, but that the man would die. That’s when he knew in his heart of hearts that Hazar was innocent. The spell that he’d been under for twenty seven years had broken, but he was still in purgatory. 

He could still hear her scream, see the horrified look on her face. He was too shocked by his revelation to explain himself or even call for help. When she nearly tripped running down the stairs he moved to catch her on instinct, but she pushed him away. He felt the lump in his throat grow as he watched her fret and cry over her father. His fear paralyzed him, his memories of the events that followed hazy, recalling only the overwhelming feeling of her slipping away from him.

He tripped for a moment and had to brace himself on the nearest wall. His chest felt so tight, the lack of air in his lungs making him dizzy. She was the very air he breathed, but now she was far from him and he was suffocating. He hadn’t seen or heard from her in nearly twenty four hours, and as the minutes drifted away he drifted further and further away from her. He was the sailor that fell in love with the mermaid, an impossible but unbreakable love, but now he’d drifted so far that a whole ocean separated them. He remembered when he told her the fairytale and showed her the shell, she asked if the couple lived happily ever after, and he lied. Tales of sailors and mermaids always ended in tragedy. He feared their story would be no different.

He gave up and leaned his back on the wall, sliding down to sit on old stone. He was already weakened physically, the thoughts of his life-line so far from him not helping matters. He shut his eyes to ward off the dizziness, but the memories crept back in.

That asshole Azat just had to show up at the hospital as soon as Hazar was taken into the OR. Nearly all the Şadoğlu were there, but her big obnoxious Abi was the one that got on his nerves the most. He acted under the guise of protecting his uncle, but he knew better. Every time he tried to talk her Azat would approach, staring him down as if that would intimidate him. He tried to pay him no mind, his focus was on her. He  _ needed _ her to believe that he didn’t do it. He needed to explain himself, to explain that he was still afraid, still tormented, but that he knew now her father was innocent. 

But she wouldn’t let him near her. In his frustration he lunged and reached for her arm. He needed to see her eyes. He needed her to see his. She gasped and jumped back in fear, crying not to touch her. Azat put himself between him and her immediately, immovable like a mountain. It took everything in him not to lay him out cold, only the abject terror in her eyes stopped him. She saw him as a monster, and it broke him. He stumbled back a step, the idea that he could physically harm her more painful than any beating Azat could give him. Tears sprang to his eyes as he watched her delicate fingers wrap around the sleeve of his jacket, pulling her cousin closer to her, using him as a shield. 

He ran away. He was still running away. The guilt, the truth, her fear, everything became too much. He returned to Aslanbey konak that night, but it didn’t feel like home. If he was honest with himself he would admit that it hadn’t felt like home in a long time. Not since Reyyan. She was his home now. But she didn’t want him. 

He couldn’t stay there, he was in no shape to drive, so he went back to the stable, to his trusty steed. Riding was therapeutic for him normally, but that night it was simply escape. He rode the horse hard, galloping across fields and over stone fences, thinking the danger of racing as fast as he could in the dark of night would make him feel something other than the pain of her slipping away from him. He was wrong of course, and when the horse faltered a little after a jump he knew he had to stop before he killed the animal or himself. 

He brought the horse to rest near a stream, under the shade of some trees. He only intended for it to drink and for him to sit on solid ground for a moment, but when he opened his eyes the morning shined brightly back at him. Mildly alarmed he looked over to find the loyal beast munching on dry grass a tree away. Then he realized what had woken him. His phone buzzed with notifications in his inner jacket pocket. He looked to see missed calls and texts, but only from one person. Firat was the only one who felt he was worthy of updates, and although he wanted nothing more than to forget the nightmare of the night before, he was more worried about Reyyan. 

She had left with Azat that night to return to Şadoğlu mansion. He clenched his jaw and swallowed hard, telling himself that Gul Hanim needed someone to comfort her since her mother stayed at the hospital awaiting news about her husband. Hazar had made it through surgery, but had depleted the hospital’s stock of blood for his rare type. Reyyan, Azat, and the rest of the family were already back at the hospital attempting to donate blood that matched Hazar’s. Nasuh & Gul turned out to be the only matches and their ages and fragile health excluded them from the list of good candidates. 

He sent Firat a text telling him vaguely where he was and inquiring as to Reyyan’s state. She was distraught, naturally, but was also frustrated at not being a match for her father. When Firat told him that, it peaked his curiosity, so he asked what her father’s blood type was and what Reyyan’s was. He read his friend’s text over again to be sure, but from what he remembered learning about biology and genetics at university, Reyyan shouldn’t have been able to have the type of blood she did if Hazar was her father. Even more alarming was the fact that Hazar’s rare blood type matched his own. 

He nearly dropped his phone when he realized what he had to do. He didn’t bother responding to Firat or thinking of what it would mean, he quickly mounted his horse and rode home. 

After a splash of cold water and a quick change he felt himself enough to drive to the hospital. His hands shook with the anticipation of what he was about to do, and more than once he lost his grip on the steering wheel. He made it there intact, but only physically. Mentally and emotionally he was shattered into a thousand pieces. He was torn between his heart and his mind. Torn between what he knew was the decent thing to do, and what his grandmother would never forgive him for. 

He walked through the doors of the side entrance to the reception desk and quietly asked where he could donate blood. When the receptionist started telling him about a clinic across town he stopped her and as calmly as he could, and told her it was an emergency. She looked a little dismayed, at the situation or at his general state he wasn’t sure. He knew he looked insane. He was pale and on the verge of tears, and he couldn’t stop the damned shaking, but by Allah he was going to go through with it. A nurse came and got him, guided him down a hall into a small room and sat him on a chair. He didn’t feel the prick of the needle or the odd sensation of slowly draining bodily fluids. He had put himself somewhere else entirely in his mind, something he used to do a lot as a child. 

When it was over the nurse offered him crackers and juice, but he felt too sick to take them. He knew logically that it would help, but his anxiety told him to get out of there. He got back in his car, even shakier than he was on the way there, but determined to drive. He made it away from the hospital and to the old part of the city before he gave up and parked his car near the minaret. At first he thought he was going to be sick, but he held it together, the fresh air and open space helping him come to himself. 

So he started walking. To calm down, to get home, to think, to escape? He wasn’t sure. That’s how he found himself sitting against a wall hours later, dusk sweeping in on dark clouds. He was shaken from his reverie when he felt fat drops fall on his head and shoulders. He looked up to the sky for a moment, a silent prayer in his eyes, before the heavens opened up on him. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of water running down his skin, of the smell of the earth, of the chill in his bones. Oddly it made him feel more alive, more himself than he had all day. 

He got up and continued walking. His body still on auto-pilot, he made it to the door of Aslanbey konak in minutes, but he was soaked through. The men at the door looked at him strangely but didn’t dare say anything by the look on his face. He entered his castle with bowed head. Feeling more like he was walking to the gallows than his bedroom, he trudged up the stairs one step at a time. He was dreading sleeping in that room alone. He would gladly sleep on the floor at her feet the rest of his life if only she’d come back to him. Not seeing her face was affecting his mental state, and he knew that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.

Then he saw her. 

He blinked hard, trying to clear the rain and delusion from his eyes. But she was still there. He stood stock still on the top step staring at her, making sure he hadn’t completely lost his mind. She was in the same teal dress and brown belt from several days ago. The day she kissed him. Her hair was a little frazzled at the ends and she shivered from the cold, but she’d never looked more beautiful to him. She stood outside their room, just out of the rain, it was almost as if she had been looking for him, waiting. The look on her face told him she was surprised and relieved to see him, but there was still a hesitance in her stance. He approached slowly, standing a few feet from her, him still in the downpour, and her just outside of it. The symbolism didn’t escape him.

“You’re here.” It felt like an impossible question, not a statement. 

“I heard what you did for my father.”

He swallowed hard. He didn’t intend for anyone to find out that he donated his blood to save Hazar’s life. If he was honest. he was a little afraid of who knew and how they found out. If his grandmother knew, she might try to kill him. 

“Why?” Her voice sounded so small and confused it nearly broke him. 

He stepped closer to her, he needed to see her eyes, he wanted to touch her, but he wouldn’t dare.

“I don’t want you to ever feel the pain that I have felt for twenty seven years.”

Her plump lips parted in shock. 

“So, you don’t want my father to die?”

He clenched his jaw and shook his head.

“I’m done. The revenge is over. It never meant anything anyway.” He wished he could contain the tears that streamed down his face, and only hoped that the rain concealed them.

Now it was her turn to take a step toward him. But a step toward him meant a step closer to the storm, and if she wanted to be near him she would get swept up. The rain drenched her hair and ran in lines down her soft cheeks, but he was never more grateful to have her near.

“You believe me? You believe my father?” The hope in her voice and the fear in her eyes paralyzed him. 

All he could do was nod.

She let out a breath and the fear left her eyes.

“And you? Do you believe me?” It might’ve been the most important question he’d ever asked her. 

He couldn’t bear her hesitation, so he forged ahead.

“Do you know what scared me the most when your father said he loved my mother?”

She was clearly taken aback and could only shake her head in confusion.

“The look in his eyes. I saw desperation and love in his eyes when he spoke about her. It’s the same way I feel about you.”

She stood before him, absorbing his words and their meaning along with the rain water.

“Then I remembered the sadness in my mother’s eyes in the photo with my father. I see that same sadness in your eyes when we are parted.”

She looked down to his mother’s ring, sitting on her left hand. 

“I don’t believe your father could have hurt my mother any more than I could hurt you.” He took her left hand in both of his and she quickly looked up into his eyes.

The innocence and openness in her eyes was his undoing.

He dropped to his knees before her, crying and shaking and holding the back of her hand to his forehead like a lifeline. 

“But I did hurt you. Babanne wanted Hazar to suffer in the same way that I suffered. I thought it would cure my pain, but it only made it worse.” 

He could hear a sob rip through her so he looked up.

“I have lived to become the villain in the story my grandmother told. I caused you terrible pain, and I can never undo it. All I can do is try to be a better man, try to be worthy of you, even though I never will be.” 

Then she did something unexpected. She knelt down with him in the puddle and held both of his hands. She wasn’t letting go. 

He gripped her fingers tightly, as if he could fall overboard at any moment, then looked into her eyes.

“I’m sorry for the pain that I have caused you. I won’t beg your forgiveness or beg you to stay. I just need you to know how much I regret leaving you that morning. Every single moment of every single day I wish that it was all real and that I hadn’t lied to you and that I never left you to die.”

She cried harder and held his hand tighter as he brought up those horrible memories. He hated himself for hurting her again.

“The only thing I don’t regret is you. Meeting you was the only good thing to come of twenty seven years of sadness and enmity. And I would go through it all again if it meant I could see you. I don’t care about my own happiness. I only want you to be happy.”

Her hands slipped out of his for a moment and he feared he would be lost at sea. But then she gently cupped his face, trying to wipe the tears and raindrops from his cheeks. The way she cared for him was the most beautiful thing he’d ever felt in his life. 

“I love you.” He said it simply and directly, and nothing had ever felt so frightening or so  _ right _ .

She sat there frozen for a moment, still holding his face, then she surged forward.

He’d been wrong before. Not all mermaid tales were tragic. 

She kissed the air into his lungs like the kind little mermaid who would do anything to keep her sailor love from drowning. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am considering a part two to this. Let me know what you think!


End file.
